A/N: Hey guys! I am so sorry for the late post, I was just extremely busy. Please favorite, follow, and maybe give us some reviews? Thanks so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter! -nadinelikesbooks

Lucretia Carnell (17) D2 F

I wake up the next day, startled by the bell motioning me to breakfast. I am then greeted by Ajax, like always, with a bright smile planted on his symmetrical face. "You ready for training today?" He asks me, and I try my best to nod confidently. Ajax is my best friend, but I dread of him knowing how desperately nervous I am on the inside. I don't want to seem weak in front of him. We're competing, after all.

"I'm not scared either," Ajax cracks his knuckles, "nuh uh. We're gonna do great," he slaps my back a little too hard, but I can tell by his trembling fingers and reddening face that he is just as nervous as I am.

We reach the training center, and are led through multiple passageways underground until we reach a small, empty metallic compartment with two smooth, grey benches. The room smells of cleaning supplies, and perched upon a relatively big steel door are words engraved:

DISTRICT 2

Ajax and I are left alone, each one of us sitting on a bench. "Man, the judges are gonna love me," Ajax's face brightens.

I laugh a little. "You're not nervous?"

He immediately responds. "Are you?"

I hesitate to speak, then it al just pours out of me. "Am I nervous?" I give a loud harf. "Oh please. I've been practicing for years. I've been doing great for years. Psh... of course I'm not nervous about the day all of that training is actually worth it. Nah, I'm gonna do fine. It's not like it matters anyway, right?"

"Calm yourself, Lucretia. You're amazing with that spear. I've never seen anyone as good as you. Nothing can stop you, not even a group of gamemakers in a cold metal room judging every step you make. You were born for this."

I take in his words, and for a split second, I actually believe him. I am pretty good, aren't I? I shouldn't be second guessing my talent today, the one day it'll all pay off. If anything, I should be embracing how amazing I am. I smile. "Thanks Ajax." He smiles and we engage into a conversation about types of flooring.

"… I mean this, it just makes my shoes so happy," Ajax says brightly.

"Ha. Kinda freaks me out a bit, I dunno. You can see the reflection of your own feet. Creepy."

"My feet are so handsome. They love looking at themselves in the mirror."

I smirk. I love talking to Ajax; he can make me forget about anything bugging me, even with just a simple laugh.

But all that fear creeps back inside of me like a snake slithering towards its prey when the intercom speaks aloud, "Lucretia Carnell, District 2."

"Good luck," Ajax says.

"You too."

Beyond the large steel door is a massive rectangular room filled with targets and weapons, gamemakers chatting behind a glass wall in the upper right corner and a large feast directed towards them. Mmm. Rotisserie chicken, asparagus, brown and white rice, and so much more, causing me to lick my lips, my stomach rumbling.

"Ah, District 2," one of the men says. I smile proudly, and strut to the single spear resting on a large table neighboring other weapons in the middle of the room. My fingers slowly caress the smoothly embedded metallic cylinder, and the skinny surface perfectly fits between my fingers when I lift it from the table, setting it free.

I feel free.

I close my eyes and picture myself in my room, my home, just doing another simple practice throw.

That's when the arrow shoots from my hand and with a loud thump, slams the deadly discrete bullseye right in the middle of the target. My heart skips a beat. I can hear someone in the audience clap.

I reach for the spear and throw it again. And again. Again and again and again. They all sharply hit the middle with a flawless shot.

Soon, after what felt like 5 minutes, my time is up. I clap my hands together with triumph and confidently wave to the gamemakers. "Thank you!" I say, and they return the gesture. I can feel the grimace spread across my face as the sound of my shoes clicking against the ground as I leave echoes throughout the space behind me.